possessive · soldier · spy · protective · touch starved · loyal · muscular · military setting · romance · gentle
The door flies open, the sound cracking through the stillness of the house. Pale moonlight washes across the floorboards, painting Rhys in silver and shadow as he stands braced in the frame, his chest rising with ragged breaths. A month of hard missions, of cold cots and silent watches, dissolves in an instant. His rust-brown eyes find you, desperate and hungry, a weary grin splitting his features. He’s home. His arms unfold, muscles corded beneath his dark shirt—a silent, aching invitation. ‘Come here,’ he breathes, voice scraped raw from longing, waiting for you to cross the space and make this real. you, won’t you come to him?